I Have No Secrets Page 7

  Sarah is silent. My skin feels prickly. I feel like crying when they argue.

  At last the traffic clears and we are moving, though the horrible atmosphere in the car isn’t going anywhere. But I feel worse – hot and sick. My clothes are sticking to me.

  When we finally get home we are greeted by Dad. He looks washed out. He frowns with concern when he sees how flushed I am. He’s so pale. And I’m only adding to his worries.

  Sarah puts me to bed although the clock on the wall says it’s only 6 p.m.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll feel better after a good rest, Jem,’ she tells me. ‘I’ll keep a close eye on you. We don’t want another stint in that hospital, do we?’

  No, we certainly don’t. The image of Dan holding up the plug he’d pulled out flashes through my head.

  ‘I’m sorry if today was too much,’ she says, gently bathing my hot forehead with a cool flannel. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. The college was great, wasn’t it?’

  It is a relief to be surrounded by the softness of my bed after the jolting of the wheelchair in the car. I feel better already. My eyes close, but I don’t want to sleep. I want Sarah to stay with me. I feel safe with her here and while she’s with me I also know she’s safe from Dan. It’s not much, but it’s the only way I can protect her. But my eyes are closing and I hear her footsteps on the stairs.

  She’s left my door open and bits of conversation drift my way from the kitchen. Mum is telling Dad about the day. It takes a while. Then Mum says, ‘Everything all right here?’

  ‘Not really,’ I hear Dad say. I strain to listen.

  ‘I dropped them at school and went to work,’ Dad tells Mum, ‘and then I got a call to say Olivia had attacked a boy and I’d have to come and get her. She must have hit him hard – he’s lost a tooth.’

  ‘What? ’ Mum exclaims. ‘Have you talked to her about it? Did she tell you what happened?’

  ‘She said it wasn’t her fault. I asked if he hit her first and she said, “No – you just don’t get it,” and she wouldn’t talk to me after that. She’s been sulking in her room most of the day. They’ve excluded her until Monday.’

  I hear breathing close by and my eyes open. I assume it’s Sarah, back to check on me, but it’s Olivia I see standing in my doorway. The light in the hall behind her means she is mostly in shadow, but I can see that she is looking towards the kitchen, listening intently to Mum and Dad like I am. I can only see the side of her face, but her eye is glistening; she’s close to tears.

  She looks like such a sad little girl I feel sorry for her for a moment. It’s hard to believe she hit a boy so hard his tooth came out.

  She turns and sees me in bed and her eyebrows go up.

  ‘Are you ill?’ She reaches over and touches my forehead, like she’s seen Mum and Sarah do. ‘Yeah, you’re a bit hot.’

  She sits silently for a couple of minutes, biting skin from around her fingernails.

  ‘There’s no point in telling anyone what really happened cos no one believes anything I say,’ she says finally.

  I want to tell her that they will believe her. Even if her teachers don’t, Mum and Dad will. I’ll believe her. Is she going to tell me ? I look at her, hoping so much that she will.

  ‘Dylan found out I’m in care and he’s told everyone. He keeps being mean about it, like saying I’m in care cos my real mum hates me. He winds me up till I can’t take it any more. It’s so unfair. I didn’t mean to hit him that hard. Blood was coming out of his mouth and everything! It was disgusting. But he shouldn’t be mean all the time. It’s not fair that I’m sent home and he just gets away with it.’

  Poor Olivia. She shouldn’t have hit him, but Dylan does sound really nasty. She should have told someone when it happened instead of lashing out – but even now, if she explained, at least people would be more understanding.

  ‘She’s not upstairs!’ I hear Mum calling anxiously.

  ‘She was,’ Dad says, also sounding worried. ‘Olivia? Olivia!’

  Olivia doesn’t move for a moment, but then she calls out, ‘I’m in here.’

  ‘She’s in Jemma’s room,’ Dad calls to Mum.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ I hear Mum say. ‘What are you doing in there? Jemma’s trying to sleep – she’s not well. Come here, Olivia. Tell me what’s been going on.’

  As Olivia leaves my room she bursts into tears.

  20

  I wake up in the morning, instantly aware that I don’t feel feverish. I feel pleasantly cool – it is such a relief.

  Dad comes in. I’ve been turned to face the window. He draws the curtains and I am pleased to see that the colour has returned to his face – a nice rosy pinkness.

  ‘Sounds like you had quite a day yesterday,’ he says. He eases me into a sitting position with his firm, careful hands and cradles me to keep me upright, his arm round my shoulder, comfortingly.

  ‘Sounds like you did too,’ I want to say.

  Sarah comes in and Dad explains that she’ll have two at home today as I’m not well and Olivia is suspended.

  ‘Maybe Olivia could read to Jemma,’ he says.

  ‘Do you want to talk about what happened with Dylan?’ Sarah asks Olivia, as we sit in the lounge, later. ‘Your mum says you haven’t told her anything.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ says Olivia.

  ‘Why don’t you read to Jemma?’ Sarah suggests half-heartedly. She’s been trying, and failing, to keep Olivia occupied all morning.

  ‘No, can I watch something?’ says Olivia. ‘I’m sure Jemma wants to watch something too.’

  ‘Being excluded is meant to be a punishment – not a chance to watch TV all day,’ Sarah tells her. ‘Really I should get you scrubbing the floors or set you some sums to do.’

  ‘No, please – not that!’ Olivia has a look of horror on her face and Sarah grins.

  So she reads to me – her school reading book that is about a pony with magic powers. She holds it so I can see the words. I can read, but my eyes flicker a lot so it is hard to look at a page of text. My eyes get tired quickly too. Olivia struggles a bit with reading and I doubt she is as good as most nine-year-olds. The book seems babyish for her.

  ‘Lovely, Olivia!’ Sarah tells her when she’s finished two tedious chapters. ‘If you had a magic pony like that, what would you do?’

  ‘I’d ride round the world on him and get him to kick all the bad people with his super hooves – kick them until they’re dead!’

  I snort. Sarah’s eyes widen and I can see she’s trying not to laugh as well. ‘Oh, Olivia! How would you know who the bad people were?’

  ‘I just would,’ Olivia says, closing the book with a snap.

  Sarah’s phone beeps.

  ‘Is that Dan?’ Olivia asks, cheekily trying to see over Sarah’s shoulder as she pulls out the phone.

  ‘Don’t be so nosy!’ Sarah gives her a nudge.

  ‘Who is it, then?’

  Sarah sighs. ‘Actually, it’s about a gig I’m going to tomorrow night. Have you heard of Glowlight?’

  ‘You’re going to see a band?’ Olivia says. ‘Cool – can I come too?’

  ‘No, it’s not for kids,’ says Sarah. ‘I’ll play you some of their songs if you like.’

  ‘Yeah!’ Olivia jumps up, chucking the book on to the sofa.

  Sarah finds a song and the intro starts playing out of her phone.

  I sing the words to myself inside my head as Sarah and Olivia bop around the living room. I love Glowlight and wish Sarah would play the music more often.

  Mum comes in while we’re having lunch. She plonks the post down on the kitchen table and looks briefly through the pile.

  ‘Two for you, Jemma. You’re popular today!’

  ‘Why aren’t there any for me?’ Olivia demands. ‘No one ever writes to me.’

  ‘Most of the post that comes is very boring, Olivia,’ Mum points out. ‘Jemma’s letters are mainly hospital appointments. This looks like one here.’ She tears i
t open. ‘Ah, it’s from Professor Spalding.’

  I wait impatiently while Mum reads the letter and I try to read her expression.

  ‘Good news and bad news, Jemma,’ Mum says. ‘Mr Katz, the guy from Israel, would like to meet you when he’s here for a conference – but it’s not until July.’

  July is five months away! It feels like forever.

  ‘I’ll read you the other letter later,’ she says, tapping it gently.

  My head buzzes. That must mean it’s from Jodi, but Mum doesn’t want to read it in front of the others.

  I can’t wait to hear what she says. But Mum said we should wait to see if I can communicate before we meet. Is she really going to make me wait five months? And then whatever they have planned may not even work anyway . . .

  ‘So what have you been up to?’ Mum asks Olivia, as she makes herself a sandwich.

  ‘Sarah put on her music and we’ve been dancing for hours,’ Olivia tells Mum.

  Mum frowns at Sarah and then turns to Olivia. ‘I’m not sure you should be having so much fun when you’ve been excluded,’ she tells her.

  ‘She did read to Jemma,’ Sarah says defensively, ‘and Jemma enjoyed watching her dance.’

  Every time I think Sarah and Mum are getting on better they start snapping at each other again.

  ‘I’ve been to your school this morning,’ Mum tells Olivia. ‘Your teacher has given me some work for you to do, so that should keep you busy this afternoon.’

  ‘Bo-ring!’ groans Olivia.

  When lunch is over, Mum leaves Sarah to help Olivia with her schoolwork and pushes my wheelchair into the lounge. She sits close to me on the sofa and reads me my letter from Jodi.

  Jodi sounds so chatty and lovely. She tells me how she went out for pizza with her boyfriend and he knocked his drink over and it went all over the pizza so it was a soggy mess! And how her team won their last three hockey matches and might win the championship. She says Mum sent a photo of me and she can see our hair is the same colour. Again, she is asking to meet me.

  ‘Jemma,’ Mum sighs, looking up at me. ‘I really thought it would be better to wait for you to meet Mr Katz and try his communication system before you met Jodi. But that means such a long wait for both of you. I’ll talk to your dad, see what he thinks.’

  My heart is racing. I’m sure Dad will agree. I’m sure both of them know how much this means to me.

  All night, I can’t stop thinking about Jodi. Over breakfast I try to suss out if Mum has spoken to Dad yet. And then, when the others have left the room, she finally says, ‘Jemma, I’ve chatted with Dad, and I’ve had a word with Beth too.’

  Beth is my social worker and she’s always keen to be helpful. I hope she agrees with Mum.

  ‘Beth suggested I talk to Jodi first – so I’ve had a little chat with her on the phone.’

  Even though I know it’s ridiculous, I get a twinge of jealousy that Mum got to speak to Jodi first. I wonder what she sounds like.

  ‘I wanted to make sure she understands about you. I don’t want her to put too much pressure on the meeting, for either of you.’

  I know that Mum is just being Mum – cautious as usual and wanting to explain everything carefully – but I wish she would hurry up and get to the point! None of this matters to me. Jodi is my sister. I have to meet her – I must.

  ‘But Jodi sounds lovely,’ says Mum finally. ‘I think you’ll like her. She insists that she does understand. We’ve arranged for you to meet next weekend – on Sunday.’

  21

  ‘Love will find a way,’ Sarah sings, as she gets me dressed. She doesn’t have the most tuneful voice, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm. I’m still revelling in the news about meeting Jodi next weekend and I love the Glowlight song that Sarah’s singing. The concert is tonight and she’s extra smiley, clearly excited.

  She wheels me out of my room for breakfast and something rustles beneath my wheels. Sarah gasps.

  ‘Oh, Finn!’ she says.

  She turns me sideways so I can see that the hall floor is lined with neatly torn strips of newspaper, carefully arranged in rows. Finn is at the other end of the hall, but comes back swiftly, looking annoyed that my wheels have put a few strips out of place.

  Dad comes downstairs. ‘Finn!’ he exclaims. ‘I hope that’s not today’s paper. I haven’t read it yet!’

  The little strip near to my wheel with Sat on it gives him his answer. The paper is Dad’s weekend treat – he doesn’t have time to read one during the week. In fact, he often doesn’t end up reading it on the weekend either, but I think he likes it being there.

  Dad looks annoyed for a second, then laughs and Sarah joins in.

  Then, when Mum goes to sit down at the table for a coffee, she jumps back up again, shouting ‘Oww!’ and clutching her bottom. From the chair, she picks up the spiky plant. Finn must have had enough of it. I bet he’s moved the china elephant back to its normal spot too. The plant is squashed and misshapen and I think Finn and I are both glad when Mum throws it in the bin.

  Sarah is getting all glammed up for the concert. She paints her nails with gold nail varnish. Then she does mine. It isn’t easy as my hands like to curl up and my fingers are reluctant to stay straight. Muscle spasms make my arms and hands move about sometimes too. But Sarah is patient.

  ‘Try to keep them still until they dry,’ she tells me.

  No amount of effort will give me control of my limb movements, but somehow my nails dry without too much smearing. I like the way the glint of gold catches my eye every time my head or hands move.

  Now Sarah is doing her make-up. I watch as she carefully applies gold eyeshadow, black eyeliner and black mascara.

  ‘I’ll do yours in a minute,’ she tells me.

  She looks so glamorous – like a model. She hardly wears any make-up except on dates. I wonder what I will look like with make-up on.

  Sarah carefully applies foundation to my skin with a sponge. It feels soft and cool.

  ‘I’m not sure it’s quite your colour, but it’s near enough,’ she says, turning me towards the mirror.

  She looks at my eyes, thoughtfully. I soon have a sparkle of gold eyeshadow above my eyes. The mascara is a disaster, though, as I jolt and end up with smears of black on my cheek. As Sarah rubs at it I look like I have a black eye.

  ‘If your mum came in now she’d think I’d been beating you up!’ says Sarah. There is an edge to her voice despite the jokey tone.

  The mascara cleaned off, Sarah starts again with more foundation. I wonder if she’ll bother with mascara, but she does.

  ‘Your eyelashes are longer than mine,’ she says jealously.

  I feel the soft grease of the lipstick as it brushes my lips.

  ‘Look at you now!’ She moves me round so I can see myself more clearly in the mirror.

  I look so different. My head is still at a funny angle, my mouth gaping and not quite symmetrical – but I look older. I wish I could look like this when I meet Jodi. I look like someone about to head off for a Glowlight concert. I wish I was. I wish so much!

  Sarah leaves me in the lounge with the telly on while she finishes getting ready.

  Dad comes in, on his way up to read bedtime stories to Finn and Olivia.

  I hope he’ll say something nice about my make-up, but he doesn’t even notice! Now I know how Mum feels whenever she gets her hair cut. Sometimes she says she’s tempted to shave her head, just to see if he realises.

  ‘You like Glowlight, don’t you?’ he says. ‘I’ll put some on for you.’

  He turns off the telly and soon the sound of Glowlight fills the room, the song with the cool drum bit at the start. Mum calls to him to turn it down.

  ‘We like it loud, don’t we, Jemma?’ says Dad. ‘But we’d better keep your mum happy.’ He smiles at me and then looks closer. ‘Jemma! Is that make-up? You look great!’

  I love the music. I absorb it – every note, every beat. I imagine I am there, with Sarah. My eyes close. M
aybe this is better than really being there as in my mind I can clap and dance. I’m not in a wheelchair. I am just like everyone else.

  The image of the band goes in and out of focus and the figures around me start to blur. The notes suddenly go off-key. I look down and see my wheelchair. I’m not dancing. And then the person in front of me turns round. A face looms closer.

  ‘If I were you, I’d top myself.’

  Dan’s menacing grin. His cold eyes.

  ‘I know you can’t so I’ve come to give you a hand – put you out of your misery.’

  Then I feel my chair being pushed. I need Sarah! Where is she? I can’t see her.

  I wake with a start.

  Mum’s standing over me, frowning. I’m breathing fast, but my breaths come slower as I take in that it was just a bad dream, that I’d nodded off.

  ‘What’s she done to you!’ Mum exclaims. ‘All that make-up!’

  Sarah comes in. I get a lovely whiff of her perfume.

  Mum takes Sarah to one side and speaks quietly to her. I try to hear what they’re saying. Sounds like Mum’s moaning about my make-up – saying it will take ages to clean off.

  I wish I could tell Mum I enjoyed being made up and to lay off Sarah, for once.

  ‘Enjoy the concert,’ Mum tells her.

  ‘Thanks – bye.’ There is still a frostiness in Sarah’s voice. She turns to me and smiles. ‘Bye, Jemma! I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow!’

  I hear the front door close. She’s gone.

  22

  In the morning, Mum gets me ready.

  ‘Looks like Sarah’s having a lie-in,’ she tells me. ‘Must have been a late one – I didn’t even hear her come in.’

  I realise I didn’t hear her either – though I have a blurry memory of hearing a car outside.

  At about half ten, Olivia comes running down.

  ‘Sarah’s not here! She’s not in her room!’

  ‘You shouldn’t have gone in,’ Dad scolds her. He goes up to look and comes back confirming Olivia is right.